A Circle is Round and Never Ends
by Sky-Pirate-Tat
Summary: Light Layton/Luke, contains possible spoilers for third game Future Luke reveals his intentions


**A/N: Written because I craved writing a sword fight. Warning for blood. Oh and there is a little gay sprinkled in there too. Just a little.  
(6/4/2013. Went back to this to fix some errors. I have had some reviews telling me this isn't true to the 3rd game. Well. I wrote this before Unwound Future was out. I was playing around with ideas at the time. That's the sad thing about writing theory fic- it's fun at the time but then when the game or show is out everything you wrote is irrelevant.)  
**

"It looks like we've reached the top of the tower." The professor said, scanning the sumptuously furnished room. Nostalgia hit him harder, not only was the tower bit too much like Mr Reinhold's architectural prowess but the room itself was so well decorated and tidy too. The professor wondered if over time his tastes had changed- those drapes were not something he would choose.

"Where is the professor?" The youngest in the room piped up. His older half kept his back turned to them and suddenly the atmosphere forboded.

"He was never here." The young man said nonchalantly. If he was facing them they would see his eye brow twitch, feigning tears.

"Why did you lie to us?" Hershel asked, trying to take control of the steeping situation.

"Yeah!" Young Luke yelled.

The one in question reached into his jacket pocket. Hershel held young Luke by the shoulders, assuming that the other was about to pull a gun out. The professor released his grip on the boy upon seeing the glimmer of the pocketwatch insteadd. Silently the man wound the watch, in their bewilderment the gears, though a pin drop were ominously loud.

He turned back to the two, walking slowly, purposely. "I'm sorry I lied." He said, head low, his face hidden under the shadow of his cap.

"Please, my boy. Explain yourself."

The man raised his hand to the professor, distracting the man, and instantaneously the boy at his side was abducted by his older self.

"Professor!" Little Luke shouted weakly, kicking and squirming under the eldest's choke hold.

"Luke!" The professor adressed the distressed, then to the deviant: "Luke!"

Effortlessly (the youngest had grown tired, gasping for breath) future Luke tossed his counterpart into a cage and wound the chain of the pocket watch to the prison and without wasting a moment to allow his mentor to interfere he pressed the pin of the watch in. Fogged light engulfed the trapped Luke who grasped the bars of his cage, shouting for his teacher. Hershel began to run after him, only to be intercepted by the point of a sword.

"Don't worry about _me_." The professor opened his mouth to protest but Luke smirked. "If he were to die because of this I wouldn't be here."

"What have you done?" It was becoming tedious to keep his cool.

"I'm sending him back to his own time. As for you, if you want to come with him you'll have to get through me and to be honest. . ." Luke grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him to his lips, kissing him fiercly. "I don't intend to be defeated." He handed him a sword and backed away.

"Luke." The professor said towards the boy. "I don't know if I'll make it in time, but you needn't worry. I'll find a way to come back to you if that should happen."

"Don't waste your breath. Come at me, professor." Luke shrugged off his coat, dropping it on as he advanced towards the man.

The professor adjusted his hat, sword at the ready. Luke charged, the professor blocked him, gritting his teeth as he braced himself against the weight of his apprentice's fury.

Luke drew back, then forward, his sword raced towards Hershel's abdomen, the man was quick to hinder him but he found he fell for a trap just as he did before- his blade was taken by Luke's own and moved in a perfect circle. He retreated before his pants legs could be shredded.

"Is that all you're going to do? Defend yourself? Let's be a little more passionate, professor."

"I don't wish to hurt you." He resisted to add: "stop this nonsense." He knew it wouldn't persuade Luke.

"Suit yourself." Luke kicked off, he pierced forward, the professor tarried his sword but rather than move him away he kept contact and thrusted forward. Luke hopped back, unsteadly, surprised and smiling.

The professor reared forward, as if to say enough was enough. Luke was his apprentice- it was his duty to snap sense in him. They waltzed around the room, each trying to best the other, swords pointed and swung dangerously. Luke's sword raced in a sweeping motion to his face, he ducked and reached for his hat, only to catch thin air.

He looked up, not wishing to leave himself open and discovered his top hat spining around Luke's sword. With a sharp flick of his wrist he sent the hat flying to the other side of the room.

"P-professor!" Little Luke shouted, looking at himself. He was blurry before, now he was nearly transparent.

"The me of the past is almost where he belongs."

"Ah!" The professor swung his sword, as their blades batted at the other he moved in a circle, manipulating his opponent in a way that he could be closer to the boy.

Then he ran, zig zagging to throw the other off. His hand reached out, and he lunged forward. Young Luke's teared eyes widened, relieved that they wouldn't be apart.

"Luke!"

But he had already dematerialized from this time, into the past. Angrily the professor turned to Luke who smiled wickedly triumphant.

"Don't get too cocky, my boy!" He swept him off his feet, Luke rolled down the floor then picked himself up with grace, one hand on the floor, his legs spread, toes pointed. He surged at the professor who pointed his own sword against him. Back and forth, a melody of steel against steel, a kindling of sparks. They were breathing hard and shaking, but neither refused to stagger. They stood in position, calculating the other's move. The professor was the first to move, his sword pointed horizontal. Luke's sword jumped over his line of fire then, without thinking, only acting on adrenaline plunged towards the man's opening.

The professor keeled over, seeming to cough. Luke's gaze moved down, the perpetual grin on his face smattered into shock.

Blood rose from the professor's mouth and waterfalled down his lips, large drops of red dotted the front of his shirt. His legs shook, and taking no more he slumped into Luke's sword to the hilt. The rest of the blade stuck out from his back, decorated also in shades of crimson under the chandler light.

"You didn't abandon me. . .this. . . this happened." Luke shook, tears ran down his face just as blood ran and ran out. "Oh god. . ." He chocked, backing away but still holding his sword and the professor in tow.

X

It was hard without the professor. After being sent to his own time Luke waited and waited in the alleyway he was dumped. Eventually he wondered if the professor had been sent elsewhere after escape from the future and began to search for him around London.

He was dirty, starving constantly, and most of all emotionally exhuasted. He began to agonize that maybe the reason the professor never came back-

He shook his head, refusing to believe it. So much that a year later her was convinced that he was abandoned, it was more pleasant to think that rather than the grim, very real posibility.

"Time Machine." One day in town he heard the words and moved through the crowd. It was that scientist again. Unlike a year ago he wasn't suspicious, he was suddenly drawn to him, listening to every word like it was a sermon.

The crowd dissipated and Luke stepped forward as the man packed his demonstrations and props away. "Sir." He tugged on his labcoat.

"it's you." He narrowed his eyes. "Where is the other guy? The one with the top hat?"

"He's. . ."

"Ah, I see. You want to change the past don't you?"

"No. I want to change the future."


End file.
